Chapter Text
The late afternoon sun shone softly through the arched, stained-glass windows. Coloured beams of light cut through the air, giving the place a magical quality all its own as Sirius looked down the length of the aisle to the closed wooden doors at the far end of the hall. Tiny dust motes swam through the shafts of light, catching his eye as he tried to focus on looking dignified and calm. Inside, he felt anything but.
His chest felt tight.
It was hard to breathe.
He adjusted his dress robes again, pulling at the cuffs, only to hear loud throat-clearing further down the row. Harry was glaring at him, having warned him only moments before to stop fidgeting. Sirius dropped the fabric from between his fingers.
Now was not the time to lose it—though it was very tempting.
This was supposed to be a grand occasion. A symbol to the entire Wizarding World. A mark of everything they had gone through to get to this point. A statement.
And, despite the number of people and magical creatures in the hall with them, this would be an exclusive event, too: a private, personal act made by just the two of them. Something as solemn and weighty as it was joyous.
It was also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to anyone who still doubted that what they had was real. Sod them, thought Sirius, his fingers now moving to play with the chain of his watch-fob.
“Stop it!” hissed Harry.
“I can’t help it!”
“Try harder.”
“Where is she?”
“She’ll be here!”
Gods. Harry was being so pompous today. “I think I liked you better as a bridesmaid,” Sirius muttered back before fixing his eyes on the closed doors once again.
He knew he should recognise the piece of music that was softly playing in the background—creature, they’d spent long enough going over all those details with McGonagall, Flitwick, and Andi—but now that the moment was actually here, it was impossible.
He was so impatient, he could barely hear a single note.
The entire afternoon was washing over him: the music, the light, the soft murmurs of all the witches and wizards filling up the seats behind him.
Surprisingly, he also felt a bit nervous. Odd that, he mused. After all, it isn’t as if we haven’t done this before.
Straightening his shoulders, Sirius let his dress robes fall regally around him again, hoping that Andi wouldn’t mock him later for being so flustered. It was hard to be calm: he was too bloody happy.
Everyone they cared about was there to celebrate with them, plus some faces that Sirius couldn’t recognise in his current state.
“Who are all these people?” he hissed at Remus.
“Your friends. Hermione’s friends. Ginny’s quidditch team. It does add up, you know.”
At first, Sirius had thought they would just have a private ceremony with only a handful of friends standing silently by; soon, however, he realised that he wanted something larger. He wanted the entire world to know how he felt about his once-and-future wife. Hogwarts seemed to give them everything they wanted: a sense of the familiar and of grandeur, and of being back where they belonged.
Looking at the familiar wooden panels and soaring windows of the great hall, Sirius knew that they had made the right choice. This was a place they both loved. Minnie had been downright proud when Hermione had approached her about having the ceremony here.
“Of course you should get married at Hogwarts,” said McGonagall to Sirius when the pair arrived to check on her willingness to host them. “I told her you were quite traditional, deep down. Didn’t I, Miss Granger?”
Hermione had smiled, amused at the memory. “Yes, you did, Professor. Although I don’t think we were talking about Sirius’ preference for wedding rituals at the time.”
“Well, what else could it have been?”
“I should think my preferences for other wedding rituals: like the wedding night. Eh, Minnie?” said Sirius, grinning wolfishly at his one-time professor as he wrapped his arms around Hermione from behind and held her close.
“Sirius Black! Behave yourself! There are children present!”
“No, there aren’t,” he replied, casting a quick look around the empty hall. “Besides, most of us learned quite a bit about that kind of thing while attending this school. Human biology, you know,” he clarified quickly, when it looked like McGonagall might hex him clear back to London. “It’s a scientific field of study.”
The headmistress of Hogwarts narrowed her eyes and looked down her long nose at the errant Marauder who, despite everything, had still somehow managed to remain one of her favourites. “And you, no doubt, imagine yourself as a professor in these matters?”
“Merlin, no,” he said, giving her his most dashing smile. “I’m much more of a life-long learner. I always loved school.” He winked just before kissing the side of Hermione’s neck.
McGonagall tsked loudly. “I don’t know how you put up with him, Miss Granger. I gave up hope years ago.”
“Oh,” said Hermione, squeezing Sirius’ hands where they were wrapped around her middle, “he can be a good boy, given the right incentive.”
“Hmph!” snorted McGonagall, shaking her head at the pair of them.
Catching Minnie’s eye again now, Sirius nearly choked when, from her seat next Molly Weasley, his old transfiguration professor gave him a very salty wink all her own.
Creature, no wonder that woman was the head of Gryffindor.
Andi, Narcissa, and Tonks were in the front row to represent his family, while every possible Weasley—Ron included—populated the bride’s side of the purple-carpeted aisle. Arthur had even re-worn that horrific powder-blue dinner jacket and matching trousers, but, thankfully, with a robe on top to cover the most egregious ruffles.
How could Molly let him leave the house like that? Sirius couldn’t fathom it.
“You all right?” asked Remus, clapping his hands on his fellow Marauder’s shoulders. Sirius was glad for the matey jolt: he’d needed to be slapped back into reality.
“What’s taking so long?”
“Bridal prerogative, most likely,” replied the werewolf. “Are you ready?”
“Don’t I look it?”
Remus gave him an ironic perusal. “You’ll do.”
“What, that’s all I get? Some friend you are, Moony!”
“Considering that the last time you did this, you looked torn between getting ready to bolt or being sick, this is a vast improvement. Here’s a thought to distract you: think about the feast later. Yes?”
“Gods, yes,” said Sirius. “In more ways than one!”
“I don’t want to hear this!” protested Harry.
Sirius grinned wickedly at his godson. “I don’t care.”
“I’m not your friend,” piped up Draco from further down the line of groomsmen. “I’m your cousin, and I think you look like a walking disaster. If Granger doesn’t show soon, you’re going to lose it.”
Sirius glared at Narcissa’s boy. “I’m also the head of our family’s house, Draco, lad. Stop being a git, or I’ll get Kreacher to start snogging your Y-fronts.”
“Is he always this tetchy?” Draco asked Harry.
“I heard that!” Sirius’ eyes flashed. “I also heard you once had a bit of a thing for my wife, back in the day. Don’t go getting any ideas. She still could drop you with one punch.”
“You wish, Black. I am a happily engaged man,” smiled Draco, nodding at where Astoria Greengrass sat next to his mother.
“She seems like a brilliant young woman,” agreed Sirius. “So, why on earth does she want you?”
“Oh, you know,” drawled Draco, clearly enjoying the familial banter, “we Black men have our ways with women.”
Sirius’ eyebrows rose slightly. “Fair point.” The wink he then gave his young cousin made Draco smirk.
“I really don’t want to hear this,” groaned Harry.
When he’d stopped chortling, Sirius jerked his head, motioning his godson closer. “You good with all this?”
Harry gave him the maddest look. “It’s a bit late to be asking that now, don’t you think? You’re going to be married in a few minutes!”
“Still.”
The young man seemed so much like Prongs in that moment, Sirius felt his heart trip over in his chest. But the look Harry then gave Sirius something else. Only Lily Evans had ever been able to skewer the heir to House Black in quite that way. Her emerald eyes sized him up again now; when Harry slowly smiled, Sirius inhaled quickly, feeling a sharp, familiar ache.
“Of course, Sirius. I’m more than good with this. I just don’t need any more visuals of your bare bum, which is why, by the time you two get home from your honeymoon, I will be happily living with Gin.”
“Ah.” Sirius couldn’t hide his own smile, but tried to look a little bashful, if only on the surface. The mirth faltered slightly with what he said next. “I wish your dad was here.”
Harry blinked, his eyes suddenly looking a bit wet. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“I think he’d’ve liked her.”
“I know it. You’re okay?” checked Harry.
Sirius nodded.
“Happy?”
“Absolutely. More than. I think she is, too,” he added, nodding towards the back of the hall.
Harry squeezed his godfather’s forearm. “Sirius. I know it.”
“I know you do. It’s just that she’s… well—she’s just… her.”
A hush fell over the room as the huge wooden doors at the back of great hall began to creak open. Sirius’ eyes immediately zeroed in on them.
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Harry, grinning to himself before moving back to stand again further down the steps between Remus and Draco.
The stirring notes of the processional suddenly pealed forth from Flitwick’s magical orchestra, making Sirius stand taller and pull his shoulders back. The triumphant music echoed through the hall as everyone rose to their feet.
“Here we go,” whispered Remus loudly in Sirius’ ear.
“Too right.”
“Aren’t you glad now that some of us wanted you to get a bit of a do-over?”
“Yes, you and Arthur make for a brilliant pair of interfering old biddies.”
Remus checked a grin and then looked wryly at his oldest living friend. “This is a good thing, Padfoot.”
“I know it is. Now, sod off. She’s here.”
The werewolf snorted. “She’s gorgeous… and clearly half-mad for loving a prat like you.”
“Exactly,” said Sirius, completely not listening because Hermione had finally appeared.
Pausing on the threshold to the great hall for a long beat, taking in everything that lay before her, Hermione then began her long walk down the aisle towards the man she had promised to marry. Again.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She was absolutely radiant.
Sirius had been waiting for this moment ever since she had said yes to his rather over-the-top proposal on the terrace.
He’d been fixated on it.
He’d been craving it.
It was time.
This was really happening, and Sirius Black couldn’t have been more ecstatic. His chest puffed out with pride as he gazed at his bride, watching her slowly advance towards him like a conqueror, like a queen, like the most amazing person he had ever known.
The tightness in his chest broke apart like a firework, lighting him up from within. Watching her move through the sunbeams, Sirius knew he was smiling like a damn fool. Because, how could he not smile at her?
His witch was a total vision.
A part of him had really expected her to want something smaller and more private for this occasion. But she’d surprised him, wanting something a bit grander, just like him. She’d told him so while riding him into oblivion in his—make that their—four-poster bed at Grimmauld Place.
“I was scared… before.”
He half-smiled as he looked up at her moving on top of him. “You didn’t look it.”
“Well, I was,” she replied primly, even while pressing on his chest to take him deeper up into her lush, tight heat. “Not of you, but… of what… it all meant.”
“And now?”
The slow up-lifting curve of her lips was sultry beyond compare: the smile of a well-satisfied woman. She stretched like a cat in the sunshine, grinding down on him. “Now I want to crow from the rooftops about how much I want to be yours again.”
“You’re mine already.”
She grabbed at his hands, using them to balance as she snapped her hips, riding him hard. “I want everyone’s hair… to rise… up… on the backs… of their necks… when they see me…. walk down that aisle… because… I want you… so much.” She held herself above him, clenching tight, taunting him with that secret muscle that made his eyes roll lasciviously into the back of his head. “I want everyone to watch while I vow to be yours. I want—”
“Everyone to know how utterly gorgeous you are?”
She shook her head. “I’m only gorgeous because of the way you look at me.”
“For someone so brilliant, love, you really are quite daft at times.”
“Watch me, Sirius. Watch me become yours.”
He grinned like a pirate. “If we do this at Hogwarts, we’re going to get arrested… and I thought the entire point of the last few months was for us not to end up in Azkaban.”
“I want you to end up in me.”
“I’m already there, kitten,” he smirked, flexing his cock inside her tightness. “Am I not?”
Now, watching her come ever closer, Sirius felt himself stir and lengthen, his desire for her superseding everything else. Merlin, but her breasts looked amazing in that gown. In fact…
He blinked.
Was it—? It was.
Somehow, Hermione had managed to recreate her first wedding gown, only now it seemed even slightly more her—a bit longer—more ethereal. More magical, somehow. Sirius knew he’d need to give Madame Malkin a massive commission the next time he was in Diagon Alley because she’d performed a bleeding miracle. The original dress had been destroyed at The Ritz, but one would never have known it now.
Hermione’s riotous curls were swept back behind a veil that sparkled in the soft afternoon light. But that gauzy fabric couldn’t even begin to hide the beaming smile on her face as she closed the distance between them.
Her beauty was entirely spellbinding.
For the briefest of moments, Sirius glanced away to find his cousin Andromeda grinning at him like a fiend. Bloody witch deserves to look that smug, he thought. In her own way, Andi had been gunning for this type of a result from the very start.
It was just his luck to have had so many brilliant witches in his life. Speaking of…
Holding out his arm, Sirius drew Hermione to him, clasping her hand, his thumb moving subtly but surely against the top of her knuckles as he squeezed her fingers.
“Hi, there,” whispered Sirius, keeping his voice low.
Her eyes were so bright, he thought he could fall into them and never stop. “Hi, yourself,” she whispered back. Her eyes moved up and down his body, taking in every detail of his wedding dress robes, including the rose twinned with a sprig of thistle in his buttonhole. Her mouth twitched. “You look wonderful.”
“Wonderful for you,” he rumbled. It was killing him not to kiss her. All he wanted was to rip that veil off and plough his hands through her hair while he conquered her mouth.
“Behave!” she grinned happily.
“Yes, listen to the woman, Sirius!” said Kingsley, one eyebrow artfully arched. “I’m supposed to marry you, not arrest you for public indecency.”
“Then I suggest you hurry up and make this legal,” Sirius fired back at their officiant for the day. “I won’t be held responsible if there are any more delays before I can tear her clothes off and—”
“Ladies and gentlemen!” intoned Kingsley loudly, starting the ceremony and shutting Sirius up in one move.
Hiding her laughter, Hermione glanced down at the ground and then gave Sirius a delicious side-long glance.
“I mean it,” he whispered.
“I know you do,” she answered, biting her lip in a way that always made him mad for her. “I can’t wait.”
“Behave,” he grinned.
“You first.”
Ignoring the pair as best he could considering he also had to marry them, Kingsley grandly continued, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls…”
Sirius was only half-listening as the ceremony continued. He was far too busy playing with the underside of Hermione’s palm, lightly rubbing his finger in random, suggestive patterns that he knew were giving her goosebumps. He did pay attention, however, when the actual vows needed to be made.
“Do you, Sirius Orion, take Hermione Jean—”
“I do.”
The congregation tittered while Kingsley rolled his eyes. “I’m not finished yet,” he snorted.
Sirius shrugged impishly. “Sorry. Go on.”
“—take Hermione Jean to be your lawfully-wedded wife, according to the laws and customs of Merlin and Nimue, and forsaking all others, promise to be faithful to her until parted by death?”
Sirius looked down into her eyes, all silliness having vanished. “I do,” he said. He’d never meant anything more in his life.
“Do you, Hermione Jean, take Sirius Orion to be your lawfully-wedded husband, according to the laws and customs of Merlin and Nimue, and forsaking all others, promise to be faithful to him until parted by death?”
She nodded first before adding, “I do.”
In the front row, Sirius thought he spied Molly Weasley handing out handkerchiefs to Minerva and then reaching far across the aisle to pass one to Andi. Gods, there was a trio he never wanted to cross. And, yet, they all seemed genuinely happy for him and his bride. It was a bloody marvel. If three such very different witches could all approve of what was happening today, then he must have finally done something right.
He managed to behave himself until it was time for the rings. Without thinking twice, Sirius did as he had back on the terrace, lifting Hermione’s finger into his mouth in order to make sure his ring then slid down past her knuckles to where it could rest snug and secure.
“Sirius…” warned Kingsley.
“Leave me alone,” he grumbled back, his eyes never leaving Hermione’s beautiful face as a lovely blush tinted her cheeks.
She slid his ring on without any similar theatrics, but Sirius knew that was only because the sight of his finger in her mouth would have led to very bad things, indeed.
Especially in front of an audience.
He did tsk with happiness, though, when, without using her wand, her engagement ring suddenly appeared alongside the gold wedding band.
“Impressive,” he murmured.
“I had a very good teacher.”
“Keep going, Kingsley,” muttered Remus from behind Sirius’ shoulder. “Don’t stop now. Really.”
“… then I declare you bonded for life.”
Kingsley raised his wand high over Sirius and Hermione’s heads so that a shower of silver stars fell over them, ending the ceremony.
“You may kiss your witch,” he said, before adding a low, “and just kiss her, Sirius. I mean it.”
Taking her delicate veil in both hands, Sirius gently lifted it back. But, instead of leaning in right away, he slowly ran a lone finger down the side of her face.
“You weren’t the first witch I ever kissed,” he told her, “but I swear to God, Hermione Granger Black, you’ll be the last.”
Hermione didn’t say anything, but her eyes shone as she tugged him closer, beaming again as he leaned down and made her his.
Despite his earlier mischievousness, Sirius’ kiss now was sweet and true, one hand rising to cradle her face as he teased the soft, pink petals of her mouth with his lips, lingering slightly to make sure it was all real.
Decorations and garlands throughout the hall burst overhead, loosing cascades of shimmering sparkles, flowers, and chimes. Heads together, the couple grinned at one another as a mad round of applause echoed around them.
Suddenly, Sirius realised that Hermione looked positively minxish. “What is it?” he asked.
“I think there’s something you should know…”
“What?”
“I’m wearing a garter.”
Sirius mouth fell open. “What’s that?”
Her eyes danced. “A garter. It’s my ‘something blue’.”
“Is it now?” asked Sirius, a wicked smile all his own lighting up his face. “I always said that was the best Muggle tradition. And I’m to relieve you of this… how?”
Hermione raised one shoulder and gave him a knowing smirk before tapping his lips with one finger.
“Oh, my,” said Sirius.
“Oh, Merlin,” moaned Harry, having clearly overhead them.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” called Kingsley, drowning out Harry’s pain. “I now present unto you, the Lord and Lady Black!”
Turning, Sirius and Hermione smiled broadly at their guests. Just before walking down the steps, he lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, saluting her in front of the entire company where both of his rings now rested.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“You’re sure we shouldn’t’ve just gone up and christened the Gryffindor Common Room?”
“No!” laughed Hermione, walking into their makeshift bridal suite at the Three Broomsticks. The reception had been a wonder, something she would always look back on and treasure, but a part of her had also been counting down the hours until she and Sirius could escape.
After the past few months, every moment alone together still felt inordinately precious.
“They could’ve put up a plaque to us,” continued Sirius, following her into the room. “‘Sirius Black and Hermione Granger, Gryffindors Extraordinaire, consummated their marriage in front of this fireplace.’ Missed opportunity, that.”
“One, that’s not where we consummated our marriage, and two, just… no!”
“Fine,” he sighed theatrically. “I’ll let it go this time, but only because I don’t want to waste any more energy arguing when I could be getting you out of that dress.”
He slid the lock home on the door behind him with a loud ‘click’, and they both grinned. He came forward to embrace her. “I loved today.”
“Did you?”
He nodded, his hands coming to rest at the small of her back, just above the swell of her gown’s wide skirt. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“Almost?”
His fingers were already busy undoing the laces at the back of her dress. “You’ve got some assets of your own that are hard to ignore, love,” he grinned, squeezing her bum for a moment while rocking up against her front.
After a lengthy, wet, deep kiss, she murmured, “This might go faster if you used your wand.”
“Oh, I’m going to use my wand,” he assured her, eyebrows waggling. “You love it when I use my wand. But laces I can do like this.” He winked and, suddenly, her back was completely undone.
Hermione groaned in his arms. “Merlin, I’ve been waiting for you to love me all day.”
“Addicted, are we?”
“Rather.”
He gave her a look. “And yet, you told me while we were dancing that we had to wait. ‘But, Sirius!’” he said, in a sing-songy high voice clearly meant to be hers. “‘We can’t! It isn’t even dark yet!’”
Hermione pinched his arm. “I did not sound like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I was just trying to be dignified. It was our wedding, after all.”
“Says the witch who had my head up her skirt wanting that garter taken off with my teeth.”
“That…” stammered Hermione. “That was just tradition and… and good foreplay.”
His eyes gleamed. “I’ll say it was. I’ve never been so close to your quim and not feasted on her. But,” he added, giving her a scandalous grin, “we’re alone now. At last.” Exhaling loudly, he sauntered over to one of the many windows decorating their upper room that looked out over the Forbidden Forest. With great care, never breaking eye contact with her, he slowly drew the curtains on the farthest sill together. “And, you see, I do believe it’s getting… darker.”
Hermione stood in the centre of the room, trying not to laugh as Sirius walked to another set of windows, drawing those curtains shut, too, before growling, “And darker…”
He came back to her and kissed her senseless. Their mouths seemed to fuse together for an endless age. But, then, just before she could wrap her arms around him and strip off his shirt, he slipped out of her reach again.
A smaller window, this time near the bed: its curtains, too, were pulled shut with a flourish.
“And darker…”
Sirius slowly prowled up to her, shifting her back with his body to sit on the high bed, kissing her lips, her jaw, and down the side of her throat, one hand teasing the sensitive skin that ran along the top of the deep v-neck of her dress.
He’d just knelt on the bed next to her when, suddenly, she became the one to walk away. He watched her from the bed, his eyes heavy with lust and intent.
Hermione walked to the last open window, her eyes fixed on him, and brought the final two curtains together.
“And darker,” she smiled.
The room was now mostly shadows as she came back to him, sitting beside him on the bed and caressing his face before leaning in to kiss his mouth. They tussled together, seeking each other, becoming more and more ravenous until he pulled her down in his arms and rolled on top of her, one hand already reaching for the edge of her skirt to ruck it up high, the other pulling at the loose bodice around her breasts and shoulders, needing to touch her skin and bare her to his gaze.
With a deep male sound, he reared up and tore off his clothes. Laughing, she helped him, and then, together, they stripped her down to her knickers. Sirius was still on his knees beside her, looking at where the voluminous gown had finally landed, when she reached out and stroked his jutting hardness.
He moaned. “Merlin, you’re killing me, ‘Mione.”
He palmed her breasts, then scooted her up higher on the bed so that he could lay his head near her belly, nuzzling the soft, tender skin. He gave a deep kiss to the alluring blend of muscle and flesh just above her pubic bone and then proceeded to slip off her pants.
Then he yelped. Loudly.
“Wha—?!”
Hermione giggled. “You didn’t notice when you were under my skirt before?”
“I… uh… what?”
“It’s called a Brazilian wax,” she explained.
“It’s, uh…” He blinked, his brain barely able to register the scandalous lack of hair where her curls used to be. “Huh.”
“Do you like it?”
He swallowed, still stunned. “Will I get in trouble if I say that I do?”
“No.”
Blinking, he tried to take in what was before him. “Do you like it? I think it’s your vote that matters most.”
She lifted one shoulder and bit her lip. “I think I might. It makes me feel… very naughty. Very bare.”
“Merlin’s pants. Tell me that again.”
“Tell you… or show you?”
“Circe suffering fuck.”
He leaned in closer, marvelling at the naked, vulnerable skin now gracing her centre, and the lusciously blatant line of her outer pussy lips.
“I’ve never been to South America,” he said.
Hermione laughed. “I think you’re going there tonight.”
“Gods, yes. Now.”
“Hmm,” she sighed, tilting herself up against his face.
Beyond intrigued, Sirius took a moment to peruse his favourite place on earth, now suddenly transformed into something mysterious and unknown. “Circe, you’re so smooth,” he groaned, running his fingers down the soft, petal-like skin. “So hot.”
Then he parted her, and thought his heart might stop. “Good gods.”
“It’s just me,” she pointed out.
“You are never just you. And this…oh, kitten. This is unbelievable.” His voice trailed away as he leaned in and lost himself in her taste. He nibbled and sucked, kissing his way to paradise, loving how she sighed his name and clutched at handfuls of his hair as he loved her thoroughly. When his fingers joined in, teasing and torturing her inner walls, rubbing and circling all the right places, she began to keen, not stopping until his clever tongue had drawn out a shattering climax that kept her clenching down on him, sending her sweetness into his mouth over and over again.
Then Sirius rose above her and slowly, lovingly, buried himself to the hilt in her tight, honeyed sheath. They both groaned at his long, smooth strokes that kept them rising on waves of pleasure as he lost himself in her, and she in him.
The passion was immense. Overwhelming. He kept climbing, pushing one of her legs high against her chest, deepening the angle, knowing she was there with him, feeling her hand making tiny circles on her clit between them, chasing bliss.
And then Sirius came, shuddering through the rhythmic clenching of her body that pulled him even deeper until he was roaring, pouring into her with a loud cry as she arched and seized and pulsed around his cock in turn.
The entire world turned inside out, and he could only see a brilliant, throbbing white as he fell into her arms and then, exhausted, pulled her close, kissing her temple, hardly daring to believe what he finally had.
This woman.
This witch, who he loved more than he ever thought possible. More than life itself.
His wife.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
THE END